The Last Whisper

You who have been the wind,

You who has given us food,

given us land,

the buffalo to hunt,

sons and daughters

that we may carry on;

this old man gives many thanks,

and looks forward to final blessings

when I reach your lands,

where the sun remains bright,

rivers run pure,

where lands are always green,

where buffalo remains plentiful,

and where an old man

can run young once more.

Any day is a good day to die

knowing You will greet me.